Can You Spell Embarassed?
by Pyocola Analogue III
Summary: On a rare chance, Max decides to indulge in a little act of immaturity. And the whole thing is watched by one person we know all too well. Slight Fax fluff. Set before first book.


Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride… Wish I did though. Don't own the song I use either. Also, this story takes place in a time before the first book begins.

Can You Spell Embarrassed?

It was a rare afternoon for me, to say the least. Today, I was the only one relaxing in the back of the house in my room; the rest of the Flock had decided to watch some weird movie I had no interest in. No offense to any of them, but I wasn't too fond of black-and-white horror films; no offense to those who are fans of the old Alfred Hitchcock films. So, anyway, I was simply enjoying a little me time with the radio on. I was lounging on my bed and staring up at the ceiling. I perked up a bit to the techno bit that picked up on the radio. "And now for an awesome techno beat requested by Stacy! So here's _Super Sprode_ by Freezepop!" He announced with almost too much enthusiasm. I smiled a bit though, since I knew the song and liked it quite a bit.

_To our crazy fans_

_We wrote this song especially for you_

_It's for everything you do_

_You are the best  
Now get undressed_

I hummed lightly as the lyrics came to my mind. I would never admit it in front of the rest of the Flock (since, you know, I am the leader and supposed to be the most mature and all) but I really loved pretending that I was on stage sometimes. If a song I really liked came on, I would sometimes sing along and pretend I was the real lead singer of the band. This rarely happened since I never normally spent any time by myself. But on the off chance that I was alone, I'd play pretend in my head.

And so, that was why I slipped off my bed, darted across the room, snatched up my hairbrush, and then hopped back on to the bed, hands on my hips and holding the brush in one hand like a microphone.

_You are the cutest fans by far_

_You took a risk and bought our disc_

_You play it loudly in your car_

_You tell your friends_

_About our band_

_We're in demand_

_This is what you are_

I mouthed the words at first, swaying my hips here and there. I also moved the hand from my hip and tossed my hair lightly. I didn't really know how a singer acted on stage but I had seen a few music videos. I only referenced the ones that weren't too edgy or inappropriate when I acted out my little fantasy.

I still had some amount of dignity left, despite the fact I was pretending to be famous and acting like a grade-A weirdo.

_S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R_

I sang out the spelling happily, stepping from the head of my bed to the bottom like it was a cat walk. I set my hands on my hips, and smiled lightly, pretending that I was looking into a crowd of adoring, cheering fans. I winked lightly at the wall and then turned on my heels, nearly getting tangled in the blanket. I scowled down at it and then hopped off my bed.

I grabbed the covers in my hands and gave a quick tug, yanking them off the bed in one swoop. I smiled, left it in a huddled mess on the floor and then climbed back on to my imaginary stage as the next verse started up. I could fix it after the song before the others came in the room.

_When we play a show_

_It's good to know you are in the crowd_

_We hear you scream so loud_

_You like to dance and take a chance_

_So throw your undies on the stage_

_No wait, you're underage_

_You send us email every day_

_Shop at targét_

_You made your freq_

_Yo uber-chic_

_You know what you are_

Whenever I played pretend, the Flock was always the other members of the band I was in for some reason. This time it consisted of us three older kids; Iggy was working the drum machine and, for whatever reason, Fang was on the synthesizer. For some reason he strikes me as a pianist type and the synthesizer is kind of like a piano; something about his long pale fingers just scream that if we weren't mutant bird kids he'd probably be great at piano.

_S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R  
S-U-P-E-R_

In this little world I made up, we were in very different outfits. Iggy had this dark sunglasses on, like the stage lights bothered him or something, though I knew they didn't really. With it he wore a sleeveless red tank top with a bomb with a spassed out face and feet running. He had two wristbands, one white and the other black, on either wrist. With it he wore really tight dark blue jeans that had large tears and fringe at the knees and black boots, tied off with neon orange laces. Fang was wearing a leather shirt without any symbol on the front. There was a spiked collar around his neck and he was wearing jeans similar to Iggy's only they were black. He had three belts notched around his waist, loose enough that they had to be supported by his hip bones to keep from dropping. He also had a spiked bracelet on his left wrist. To complete the outfit he was wearing black sneakers with neon green laces that just jumped out and grabbed your attention (considering the rest of his outfit was pure black).

I was wearing a powder blue tank top with a pink and orange pleated skirt. With it I had knee high boots with neon yellow laces on. I had a few rubber bracelets of various hues all along my wrists, reaching up to almost my elbow. This was something I knew I wouldn't have been caught in here at the house or even on the street, but since in my daydream we were a super popular techno band performing a live show the slightly bizarre attire made sense (after all, Fang wearing anything other than black was practically impossible).

_You're super-sprode (That is what you are)_

_So super-sprode (The cutest fans by far)_

_You're super-sprode (That is what you are)_

_So super-sprode (The cutest fans by far)_

For some reason, as I sang and walked on stage, my gaze kept trailing back over to Fang. I decided it was because of the shoelaces; they were just so not-Fang.

_To our future fans in far off lands_

_Do you want to join our club?_

_We're on the road_

_It's super-sprode_

_We'll just ask for one thing more_

_Come see our tour_

_You will agree to sing along with me_

I was suddenly yanked from my little illusion when I heard a small snickering a few feet away. I whirled back around on my heels and faced none other than Fang leaning against the doorway of the room. Because I had turned, my foot was wrapped around the sheet of the bed and when trying to get off the bed I slipped and landed. Hard. With my ankle still wrapped around my leg, which was bent at the knee and pointed into the air. "You're one smooth performer, aren't you? Maybe soon you'll move up from beds to kitchen tables," He commented with that stupid mocking smirk on his lips.

"How long were you standing there?" I asked quickly, pressing up and yanking the sheet off my ankle. I looked up at him suspiciously, knowing that he may very well lie just so he could have a good story to tell later at my expense.

"Not too long. Only since the start of that verse," He said calmly with a brief shrug. I let out a small sigh until he chuckled lightly at me. "But I've seen you do that to a bunch of other songs and bands. So do those count?"

"Fang, please, just don't-"

"I know, I know. Don't tell the others, right?" He asked calmly before turning. He poked his head back over the frame. "Just understand that I'll be expecting a little bit of a reward for being kind enough to hold it in. Since I'm sure Iggy would have a field day with this little tid bit of information." He added on. I stood up and walked over, giving him a quick hug. It was quick because he tensed up a little bit.

"Thanks Fang. I know I can count on you," I beamed happily. He nodded curtly, turned and walked off. After he left I sighed in relief and set to putting my bed back together.

…

Fang flopped on the couch next to Iggy and stretched with a lazy yawn. "Hey. Was Max doing her weird little singing thing again today?" Nudge asked eagerly with a large grin. He perked up and shook his head calmly.

"Nope. She was just tidying up and stuff," He said calmly. Iggy let out a disappointed sigh.

"Lame! I was wondering what song she'd dance to this time!" He huffed lightly. Fang shrugged and turned up the volume on the television as the movie started up.

After all, Fang had promised to keep this incident to himself.

End

So this is my first Maximum Ride story. I hope you like it. If you did, please check out my poll because I'm thinking of doing a multiple chapter story. If I do, I will have much longer chapter than this story was. So please tell me what you think and thank you for reading it.


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